


Painting the Pleasure of You

by honeyedapricotsunshine



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Body Worship, M/M, Rimming, blowjob, sweaty sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 03:46:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19455679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyedapricotsunshine/pseuds/honeyedapricotsunshine
Summary: Kyungsoo is a tour guide at a large gallery that’s showcasing erotic paintings. Unbeknownst to him, the artist, Jongin, is in the crowd.





	Painting the Pleasure of You

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #R1 KS67

Tonight was gallery opening night. Jongin was, for the most part, avoiding the crowd; it was his first solo show, an achievement worth celebrating; he was young, his work was scandalous, and it was wonderfully painted. Of course, he hadn’t thought of his work as scandalous at first. It started as anatomy practice, nude models sketched in ink, then acrylic; that bored him after a time, so he added flowers, conveniently placed many-petaled chrysanthemums and vivid orange lilies with splayed thick petals, and he added the bright flutters of _hanbok_ silk, always untied to show skin. The idea came to him when Junmyeon had a sneezing fit in front of a flower shop nearly a year ago (and across the street, conveniently, a silk dyeing shop). The other artists at his communal studio were unbothered at first; nudity wasn’t exactly a big deal. Then one night, starfished on his bed with a lot of drowsiness and enough horniness to make him think dirty thoughts without acting on them, he had a flash of genius; the painting revealed itself to him, a slim guy sitting on a dildo, wreathed in flowers as he threw his head back in pleasure. The Flower Boys series was born. It earned him many curious (and some smug) looks, enough for him to crave the privacy of a home studio. He loved his work, and he was insanely proud of it, of the gallery opening, of people finally _seeing_ his work. And yet, he couldn’t find the energy to join in.

At least, not until he saw Him. Big beautiful eyes, thick lashes behind the frames of his glasses, a long-sleeved black shirt with a neckline that showed off the smooth expanse of his neck and collarbones, full, plush lips pursed in a pout. A work of art. The models in Jongin’s works were beautiful too, but they were a cold kind of beauty, too polished to seem human. But this guy, he radiated a warmth that made Jongin want to walk right up to him and kiss him. He didn’t, of course, but he _did_ notice the name tag pinned to the guy’s shirt, even if he couldn’t make out the name. Jongin tilted his head, eyes narrowed. Maybe he should’ve met with the people Junmyeon hired for the event (as Junmyeon had asked him to, with an annoyed roll of his eyes when Jongin only shrugged).

He was feeling a little wicked now, seeing the perky smile on the guy’s face. The idea wiggled into his head, an idea so mischievous and impish he knew Baekhyun would approve. Speaking of his best friend, Jongin took a peek at Baekhyun, who was stationed by the door as a greeter. Baekhyun looked back and caught Jongin’s eye, giving him a bright thumbs up, but an older couple walked in. Jongin blushed, suddenly embarrassed about the raciness of his paintings; the older couple was about the same age as his parents, but he brushed off the nervousness, knowing full well it was too late to walk out of the gallery. Sure, he had time to reconsider about the cute guy, even though he’d wanted Baekhyun’s encouragement, but he didn’t want to overthink it or he knew he’d chicken out. So, with one last glance in the mirror to fix the collar of his black turtleneck, Jongin sauntered towards him.

Kyungsoo. That was his name, which Jongin glanced at before he became engrossed in those wide doe eyes. Kyungsoo smiled at him, and fuck if Jongin wasn’t a complete wreck just from the sight of that heart-shaped smile. There was no flash of recognition in his eyes, and Jongin bit back a smile, for once grateful that he’d kept his face a mystery from the art world.

“Welcome to the Golden Orchard Gallery, do you have any questions?” he asked.

“I do, actually,” Jongin purred, flashing Kyungsoo a toothy grin.

Kyungsoo blushed, clasping his hands together as he met Jongin’s eyes. “Well, I’ll try to answer them as best I can.”

Jongin almost swore under his breath. Kyungsoo’s smile made him melt, bright and warm and sunny.

“Hmm, where’d he go to school?” Jongin asked, feigning interest in a placard next to the sunflower painting.

“Seoul Arts,” Kyungsoo said, shifting to move a little closer to the painting.

Jongin looked at the painting, the lithe, dark-haired boy standing in profile among sunflowers and a pastel blue and peach background. It wasn’t one of his favorites, but it was a crowd pleaser; the elfin boy with large eyes stole a lot of hearts.

“What’s this about?” he asked.

“Ah, well the artist wanted to highlight the model’s height by using sunflowers,” said Kyungsoo, “even though there isn’t a defined background. He also wanted to emphasize the model’s brightness, letting us viewers know of his bright personality.”

Jongin pursed his lips and hummed, nodding in approval. Cute _and_ knowledgeable, at least so far. He walked to the next painting, curiosity piqued as he glanced at Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo seemed to take the hint, following Jongin with sweet eyes. This was the chrysanthemum painting, a naked man with piercing feline eyes peeking just above his arm was splayed on a bed of curling petals, an undone _hanbok_ jacket offering no modesty as it covered only the small of the model’s back. _This_ one Jongin liked a lot.

“What’s this one about?” Jongin asked.

Kyungsoo stepped closer again, and Jongin got a whiff of his perfume, floral and fresh. He shifted his weight, giving him the perfect vantage point; he could see the extended leg of the model amid soft, purple petals, and he could see Kyungsoo’s radiant eyes, flicking between the painting and him.

“An invitation,” said Kyungsoo, the tips of his ears turning pink. “He’s enticing the viewer, inviting them to look at him, or even to be his lover for the night. The purple of the chrysanthemums is to show he expects lavish treatment.”

“Why chrysanthemums?” Jongin asked.

Kyungsoo sputtered ( _cute_ , so cute), toying with his name tag. “Uh…”

“They’re an autumn flower,” said Jongin.

“Ah, yes, they are,” Kyungsoo said with a nervous chuckle.

“Perhaps the model is older?” Jongin pretended to muse.

“Oh,” Kyungsoo said softly. “Oh? That does make sense.”

Jongin beamed, scrunching his nose when Kyungsoo turned to inspect the painting again.

“I heard these are all paintings of his lovers,” a woman butted in, shattering the warmth of the moment.

“No,” they both said, equally forceful.

She balked, taking a step back.

“They’re just so sexual,” she muttered.

“They’re works of art,” said Jongin. “Explorations of the male erotic in painting. They’re _studies_.”

The woman’s lips were pressed into a thin line. She didn’t dare respond; instead, she readjusted her shawl and stalked off. He blanched, distinctly aware of Kyungsoo’s stare (and of _course_ Kyungsoo’s lips were parted, soft and enticing).

“Sorry,” he murmured.

“No, that’s fine!” Kyungsoo rushed. “D-do you want to continue?”

Jongin gave him a warm smile. “Sure.”

“Ah, one of my favorites,” said Kyungsoo, stepping closer to the next painting. It was the self portrait. Jongin tried not to look smug, but knowing Kyungsoo’s favorite was a painting of Jongin’s naked self straddling thick-petalled pink lilies with maroon freckles made him want to puff his chest with pride. Of course, he hadn’t painted his face, just the fullness of his lips up against the top edge of the frame. Gold pollen dusted his thighs and the curve of his back and ass, and it dripped from his lips.

“Why is it your favorite?” he asked.

“Can’t really explain it,” Kyungsoo said softly, turning to the painting with fond eyes.

“What do you think the gold means?” Jongin asked.

“Oh,” Kyungsoo cleared his throat, cheeks peachy. “It’s supposed to be ejaculation.”

“That’s a lot of cum,” Jongin muttered.

“Abundance,” said Kyungsoo. “Virility.” A pause. “If I could afford to buy just one of his paintings, it’d be this one.”

Jongin urged his heart to calm itself, but still it thundered against his chest. He forced himself to peer at the lilies, focusing on the fine brushstrokes.

“If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’m just going to make sure they’re alright,” Kyungsoo said, gesturing at a couple that stood one painting over.

“Oh, of course,” Jongin replied, trying to conceal his disappointment. He really didn’t want to let Kyungsoo go, not when he’d only just started. “I’ve been hoarding you, that’s rude of me.”

“Ah, it’s fine! I’m sure Mr. Kim wouldn’t mind if we take extra time with certain people.”

“Hm, you’re right. I don’t mind,” Jongin said, pursing his lips pensively.

“Heh, yeah. Wait—” The realization dawned on Kyungsoo almost instantly, ears aflame. He clapped his hands over his mouth, eyes as big as sunflowers. “I had no idea. Oh gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know—”

“It’s okay,” Jongin said, but Kyungsoo went for a bow. He caught Kyungsoo before the other could finish, pulling him close. “I’d rather people still not know who I am,” said Jongin, eyes darting towards the older couple from earlier, then back to Kyungsoo.

“Oh,” Kyungsoo said, his voice small. Jongin wanted nothing more than to plant a deep kiss on Kyungsoo’s plush lips; instead he took a step back, squeezing Kyungsoo’s hands in his before he let go. And with a heavy heart, he watched Kyungsoo inch his way towards the couple, ears still red.

The rest of the evening was torturous. Jongin tried to blend in with the crowd, but he kept gravitating towards Kyungsoo, craning his neck above the people to catch sight of the deep pink heart of Kyungsoo’s smile. He accidentally ate too many raspberry tarts (he was stress-eating), sipping warm champagne out of his plastic flute (this was the only flute he’d had all night, nursing it until it was flat and hot). He’d watch the crowd, people’s reactions to his work, but inevitably (naturally) his eyes landed on Kyungsoo’s pert ass. And of course Baekhyun noticed his wandering eyes.

“You’re distracted,” he said with a smirk.

“No.”

“Oh please, Jongin, you know I can see right through any fibs you tell me,” said Baekhyun. “New model?”

Jongin blushed, biting his lip.

“Not just a model,” he mumbled.

Baekhyun’s eyebrows shot up. “You’ve _never_.”

“He makes me want to,” Jongin hissed.

“I mean, I can see why,” Baekhyun said with a snort. “Are you going to talk to him?”

“I already did,” Jongin whispered.

“You _what_?”

“Shush!”

“Wait, wait, wait. You already proposed giving him dick?” Baekhyun squeaked.

“For fuck’s sake, keep your voice down,” Jongin hissed. “I haven’t yet, but I want to.”

“ _You_? The blushing virgin who still giggles when he says penis? _You_ want to have a one night stand with this ethereal twink with the most amazing dick-sucking lips I’ve ever seen on this planet?”

“ _Yes._ ” Then he mumbled, “preferably it wouldn’t be a one night thing.”

“Oh, you want long term suck I see,” Baekhyun purred.

Jongin tried not to roll his eyes.

“I’m proud of you, y’know,” said Baekhyun. “You’re all grown up now, getting juicy ass.”

“I hate you.”

“I promise you won’t even remember I exist while you’re getting head from him,” Baekhyun said with a wink.

“You’re insufferable,” Jongin groaned, finally putting down the champagne flute.

“And you need to make your move before you miss out,” said Baekhyun. "Whip out your dick for him, let him know it’s all his.”

Jongin gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the heat that rushed to his ears. He really needed new friends.

But Baekhyun was also right. The night was winding down, and if he didn’t act now, he ran the risk of losing Kyungsoo to the mass exodus of closing. He sighed, squared his shoulders in preparation, and cursed under his breath when Baekhyun smacked his ass “for luck.”

He clasped his hands behind his back (to stave off any more of Baekhyun’s smacks, but also to look cool, or at least, he hoped so) and sauntered over to Kyungsoo’s side.

“Good so far?” Jongin asked, aiming for nonchalance but probably missing the mark wildly.

Kyungsoo jumped, squeaking, and giggled when he realized it was Jongin.

“Yes! Sorry, I’m nervous now,” he said, biting his lip.

Jongin’s smile grew. “Why? You’re doing a fantastic job.”

Kyungsoo lowered his eyes, his round cheeks pinked and glowing. “I mean… well— It’s a little nerve-wracking knowing you were giving your favorite artist a tour without even knowing it was him.”

“And yet, you were marvelous,” Jongin gushed, catching himself before he was any more obvious.

Kyungsoo tried to hide his bashful smile, shifting his weight.

“I’d like to paint you,” he blurted before he lost his courage, cursing himself when he felt the heat rush to his ears. “If you’re okay with it, I mean.”

“Me?” Kyungsoo asked, staring at him wide-eyed. “But I’m not—”

“Not what?”

Kyungsoo shook his head, lips in a pout.

“Not like them,” he said, looking at the chrysanthemum painting.

“No,” Jongin said softly. “You’re more beautiful.”

And when Kyungsoo gave him a bewildered look, he had to wonder where this boldness was coming from (well… he _knew_ where it was coming from… it was coming from his dick).

“But we can do other things while you make up your mind,” Jongin rushed.

Kyungsoo quirked his head, brow furrowed. “Like what?”

“Like dusting you in gold,” Jongin said; he was amazed at his own confidence (or the veneer of confidence, because on the inside he was a trembling, nervous (but horny) mess).

“Gold? Oh,” Kyungsoo gasped, looking at the self-portrait, at the gold dripping from Jongin’s lips, then back at him. “Now?”

“After the opening is over, silly,” Jongin said with a chuckle.

“Right,” said Kyungsoo. He looked up at Jongin through his eyelashes (which made Jongin’s knees weak) and bit his lip. “Okay.”

Jongin had to stop himself from squealing.

“I’ll let you go now,” he said with a giddy giggle. “See you after?”

Kyungsoo hummed in assent, blushing when Jongin pressed a quick kiss on his cheek.

The minutes crawled by. Just forty-five of them before the gallery closed, but each one was excruciating. He tried to pass the time thinking of how he would paint Kyungsoo, but the thought of the shorter naked only made him think of how much he wanted to cum on Kyungsoo’s asscheeks. Twenty minutes before the end of the opening, Baekhyun caught his eye. His best friend made a lewd gesture then a thumbs up with a shrug. Jongin hated that he knew exactly what Baekhyun meant. He gave him a curt nod, barely controlling a chuckle when Baekhyun dropped the half-eaten tart in his hand.

But finally, _finally_ the people were out the door, and the staff was cleaning up. He’d told himself (before the night started, and before he saw Kyungsoo) that he would stay and help. That would’ve naturally blown his cover, but now he was reconsidering. Kyungsoo was busy extracting a crumpled napkin from below the table, but Jongin waited, smug when Kyungsoo jumped. The smaller gave him an exasperated glare, tossing the napkin into the trash.

“You have to stop sneaking up on me,” he grumbled.

“That’s me trying to be, uh, cool,” Jongin said with a sheepish smile.

“Cool?” Kyungsoo asked, giggling when Jongin blushed. “You can do it without scaring the living daylights out of me.”

“Right,” Jongin mumbled. “Well, I was thinking we could slip out now.”

Kyungsoo froze, then comically glanced around the gallery to see if anyone else was paying attention (they weren’t). He bit his lip, cheeks pink. “That would be nice.”

Jongin grinned, twining his fingers with Kyungsoo’s as he snuck down the gallery. Most of the others were too busy cleaning up, shimmying to the music and drinking the rest of the champagne. Baekhyun and Junmyeon were at the front desk, flipping through the guest book. Baekhyun gave him a wink, but Junmyeon only stared, half in shock. Jongin giggled, pulling Kyungsoo towards his car.

“You have a car?” Kyungsoo asked, bewildered as he clambered in.

“Well, yeah?” Jongin said with a laugh. “How else would I get around?”

“Subway,” Kyungsoo said bluntly. “Or taxi, if you have that kind of money.”

Jongin didn’t point out that he did, in fact, have that kind of money, but preferred the comfort of his own car. He plugged his phone in, holding it out for Kyungsoo.

“Co-pilot picks the music,” he said with a smile, and Kyungsoo took the phone with a satisfied chuckle.

The car ride was lengthy enough for pleasant conversation. They talked about Jongin’s art, about flower meanings and Jongin’s favorite brand of paint, about their favorite artists, about little galleries and big palaces, about _hanbok_ and sculpture. Just when they’d switched to the topic of favorite foods (Jongin was probably a little too enthusiastic about raw crabs in soy sauce), they pulled into the driveway. His house was on a gentle slope, paper screens offering privacy behind glass panes. Behind it, the warm, dark mugginess of the summer night. Serene, with the buzz of crickets and cicadas as Jongin stepped out of his car. He walked to the other side of it, opening the door for Kyungsoo (and of course the smile Kyungsoo gave him made his stomach somersault).

“I thought you’d live in the city,” Kyungsoo murmured.

“Too much.”

“Too much what?” Kyungsoo asked, scrunching his nose.

Jongin chuckled, mostly to stop himself from booping Kyungsoo’s nose. “Too much everything. Noise, people, aggravation.”

“Hm, you paint out here?” Kyungsoo asked.

“The studio is out back,” said Jongin, walking up the path to the front door. Kyungsoo followed closely, neck craned to look at the sculptural fountain at the edge of the balcony. He took a deep breath, unlocking the door.

They slipped off their shoes, and Jongin didn’t bother holding back his smile when Kyungsoo clung to Jongin’s arm for balance. He let the smaller wander around, waiting by the hall to his room as Kyungsoo gaped at the floating fireplace, dragging his fingertips across the white suede of the sofa.

“No wonder you don’t want to be in the city,” Kyungsoo said with a giggle.

“It’s peaceful,” said Jongin. “Sometimes I have to give myself a kick to go into the studio to work. Naps here are the best.”

Kyungsoo laughed, a scrunchy-eyed, apple-cheeked laugh that warmed Jongin’s heart.

“Probably not best for what we want to do though,” he said at last, cheeks pink.

And, _oh_ , right. Well, Jongin wasn’t opposed to sofa sex, but Kyungsoo was right. A bed would be more comfortable.

“This way,” Jongin said with a sweeping gesture.

Kyungsoo twined his fingers with Jongin’s, tugging him down the hall, but as soon as they’d stepped into the room Kyungsoo let go, gasping.

“Wow,” Kyungsoo walked around his room, looking at the ceramics in the nooks of the alcove the bed was in. The room opened to the right, another fireplace in front of the cozy corner sofa. Kyungsoo continued, soft steps until he stopped by the windows. A shame it was night, because the view of the surrounding forest was breathtaking. Now it was only amorphous darkness, of course, but that didn’t stop Kyungsoo from looking.

Jongin bit his lip. A sudden urgency filled him; he wanted Kyungsoo, he wanted to see Kyungsoo naked and unraveled by pleasure. A little anxiety still lingered, but Jongin pushed past it, placing his hands on Kyungsoo’s waist. He traced the line of Kyungsoo’s neck with his lips, pausing just behind Kyungsoo’s ear to press a kiss to the soft skin. He felt Kyungsoo gasp, placing his hands over Jongin’s.

“That was fast,” he said with a chuckle.

“Sorry, I’ve never done this,” Jongin mumbled, taking an embarrassed step back.

“A one night stand? Me neither,” Kyungsoo guffawed.

“Had sex,” Jongin clarified.

“Oh,” Kyungsoo said, his voice barely a whisper. “Well, to be fair I’ve only ever been intimate with one guy.”

“Right.”

“I made things awkward, I’m sorry,” Kyungsoo said.

But that was enough to break through the awkwardness. Jongin let out a nervous giggle, rubbing his ear.

“It’s okay.”

Kyungsoo took Jongin’s hands in his, bumping their noses together.

“How do you want to paint me?” Kyungsoo asked.

Jongin laughed, untangling his hands from Kyungsoo’s to rest them on Kyungsoo’s waist. “I have to see you naked first. N-not because of the sex! I mean yes because of the sex, but also because I need to see you to see what poses would be best.”

“Poses?” Kyungsoo asked, voice husky.

Jongin giggled. “We need to experiment first,” he murmured, slipping his fingers under Kyungsoo’s shirt.

“I think it’s only fair the artist is also naked during the experimentation,” said Kyungsoo.

“That can be arranged,” Jongin said softly, brushing his thumb against Kyungsoo’s cheek before he dove for a kiss.

First, Kyungsoo’s glasses, already knocked askew by the overly enthusiastic kiss. Then the offending shirt, which made Kyungsoo shiver. Jongin pressed sloppy kisses to Kyungsoo’s neck as he unbuttoned Kyungsoo’s jeans, hooking his thumbs into the waistband to pull down his pants and his boxer briefs. Kyungsoo giggled, cupping his own warm cheeks as Jongin helped him extract his legs from the tangle of denim. And then Jongin stepped back to stare.

He was a marvel to look at. Jongin grabbed Kyungsoo’s left thigh, in awe at the way his fingers sunk into the smooth expanse. It reminded him of looking at the Rape of Prosperina, the grip of soft flesh so sensuously chiseled out of marble. He met Kyungsoo’s eyes, blushing when he saw the flush on Kyungsoo’s face.

“Sorry, You’re just— I was— sorry,” he stammered, sliding his hand up to knead the full flesh of Kyungsoo’s ass.

“It’s okay, I’ve just—” Kyungsoo paused to place his hand over Jongin’s, smile widening, “I’ve never been appreciated like this. It’s nice.”

Jongin licked his lips, trying ignore the stupid stab of jealousy at the thought of another man seeing Kyungsoo like this. So, to distract himself, he kissed the raspberry pink of Kyungsoo’s lips; he sunk his teeth gently into the swell of Kyungsoo’s bottom lip, his hand slipping down to tease Kyungsoo’s hole. And when Kyungsoo’s mouth fell open in pleasure, Jongin covered it with his own, tongue exploring the taste of Kyungsoo (a taste he liked, a hint of champagne and the tartness of blackberries) as he circled Kyungsoo’s hole with his finger.

But he didn’t want to stop there. He wanted to kiss every part of Kyungsoo, admiring each dip and rise of cream, each floating tiny freckle. Jongin moved his hands to Kyungsoo’s hips, kissing his way down Kyungsoo’s neck until he reached Kyungsoo’s nipples. He took his time, unable to help his smile when he heard Kyungsoo inhale with the first swirl of his tongue around the right nipple. Soft sucks, hard licks, and the occasional graze of his teeth, until Kyungsoo started to pant, his half-hard dick bumping against Jongin’s stomach. Jongin nuzzled his way across Kyungsoo’s chest, teasing his left nipple until Kyungsoo whimpered, fingers digging into Jongin’s shoulder.

“It’s crazy how that’s too much and not enough,” Kyungsoo chuckled, hissing when Jongin gave his nipple one last lick.

“Mm, so you want more?” he purred, kissing his way down.

“Yes,” Kyungsoo said, voice breathy.

Jongin licked his lips, pulling Kyungsoo’s foreskin back to reveal the deep pink of the head, gleaming with precum. Without hesitation, he wrapped his lips around the head, sloppy sucking as Kyungsoo graced him with contented sighs. Kyungsoo threaded his fingers into Jongin’s hair, which only emboldened him. He sunk further, suddenly grateful he had no gag reflex to stop him when Kyungsoo’s dick hit the back of his throat. He swallowed, eyes closed in pleasure when Kyungsoo twitched under him.

He licked the head, reluctant to move on, but he wanted the rest of Kyungsoo. Precum beaded at the slit, and he lapped at it, one last loving suck to the tip before he coaxed Kyungsoo onto his side. He kissed the side of Kyungsoo’s waist, gentle as he guided Kyungsoo onto his stomach. Kyungsoo peeked at him over his shoulder, eyes hooded as Jongin parted Kyungsoo’s cheeks. He let go, mesmerized by the jiggle, before he parted them again. With an appreciative sigh, he bent down, a timid lick across Kyungsoo’s pink hole drawing out a high-pitched, half-strangled moan from the other. Which, inevitably, made Jongin’s dick pulse. His grip tightened, slim fingers digging into the pulp of Kyungsoo’s asscheek as he pressed flat-tongued licks to Kyungsoo’s hole. It didn’t take long for Kyungsoo to press himself against Jongin’s tongue, groaning when Jongin pulled back.

“I didn’t want you to stop,” he hissed, holding his cheeks apart when Jongin let go.

“Not even if I was going to do something else?” Jongin asked, teasing Kyungsoo’s hole with the flat of his fingertip, a feather-light touch.

Kyungsoo shivered, but batted Jongin’s hand away. “More tongue. And your clothes need to come off.” Jongin grinned, pulling off his turtleneck and throwing it aside. He tried wrangling his jeans off while on the bed, but it proved futile. He blushed and stood, glowering at the sound of Kyungsoo’s giggle. “Need help?”

“No,” Jongin gritted. But that didn’t stop Kyungsoo from helping, pulling Jongin’s pants down with a little too much force. He ran his fingers over the tent of Jongin’s underwear, pausing to touch the damp spot of precum. Jongin inhaled sharply, but didn’t move. He didn’t dare to, not when Kyungsoo was carefully peeling his underwear off, plush lips enveloping the head in wet heat. “Fuck.”

Kyungsoo peeked up at him, and Jongin stifled a groan, fingers tracing the seam of Kyungsoo’s bottom lip against his head. The sight of Kyungsoo’s doe eyes, framed by thick lashes, and his raspberry lips suckling his head set Jongin’s imagination aflame. He would _never_ be able to get this image out of his head. But just as he was ready to start thrusting into Kyungsoo’s mouth, the smaller pulled off, laying on his side once more as he gripped his plush ass and exposed himself.

“You weren’t done,” Kyungsoo said curtly.

Jongin gulped, clambering back onto the bed under Kyungsoo’s expectant eyes. He was torn between wanting the taste of Kyungsoo and wanting Kyungsoo to taste him. He wanted to try _everything_ with Kyungsoo. But he reminded himself this wouldn’t ( _would absolutely not_ ) be a one time thing. They had time. So he bent down to swirl his tongue around Kyungsoo’s hole, alternating between flat, broad licks and dipping his tongue inside of Kyungsoo. He wished he could see Kyungsoo; the wanton sighs and breathy moans were driving him insane. The tip of his dick brushed against the sheets, and he shivered, nails digging into Kyungsoo’s thighs.

“Okay— ah! Stop,” Kyungsoo keened, trying to wriggle out of Jongin’s grip.

So Jongin sat up, massaging Kyungsoo’s thigh absentmindedly. “Do you want me to finger you now?”

Kyungsoo nodded, squeaking in surprise when Jongin pried his thighs apart. He took in the sight, maddening touches as he dragged his fingertips down Kyungsoo’s dick, thumbed across his balls, massaging them gently as he scooted back. And because he couldn’t resist, he bent down to suck Kyungsoo’s balls, kitten licks between each wet suck. Kyungsoo spread his legs further, lifting his hips to chase after Jongin’s mouth.

But Jongin sat back anyway, grinning when Kyungsoo pouted. “I thought you wanted me to finger you.”

“I _do_ ,” Kyungsoo whined.

“I can’t do it all at once,” Jongin teased, leaning over Kyungsoo to pull the drawer by the bed open.

“A guy can wish,” Kyungsoo said, giggling.

Jongin snorted, but was cut short by his dick dragging along the underside of Kyungsoo’s thigh, lips parting. Kyungsoo took advantage of his parted lips and kissed him, deep and sloppy, too much tongue (and not enough friction, not even when Jongin canted his hips, searching for more than just soft skin).

“I’ve hardly touched you,” Kyungsoo murmured. He wrapped a hand around Jongin’s dick, pumping gently; he paused when Jongin let out a strangled whimper and thrusted. “Hm, maybe I shouldn’t.”

“Why not?” Jongin asked. He wiggled his hips, huffing when Kyungsoo moved his hand to Jongin’s inner thigh.

“I don’t want you to come before me,” Kyungsoo whispered into the crook of Jongin’s neck.

“I _won’t_ , I prom— ah—” he bared his neck as Kyungsoo pumped his dick, fingers tangling into the sheets when Kyungsoo kissed the juncture of neck and shoulder.

He tore himself away from Kyungsoo’s touch with a frustrated growl, bracing himself on Kyungsoo’s parted knees.

“Maybe I should grab the lube,” Kyungsoo said with a smile.

Jongin ignored the heat in his ears, watching Kyungsoo clumsily fish the lube out of the drawer. He accepted it with a murmured thanks, squirting some onto his fingers. And because he was in the heat of his lust, he pressed the lubed finger to Kyungsoo’s hole. Kyungsoo hissed.

“Cold,” he whined.

“S-sorry,” Jongin spluttered. He moved his hand away, but Kyungsoo grabbed his wrist.

“It’s fine.”

Jongin swallowed hard, circling Kyungsoo’s hole again; he didn’t tease much, pressing his finger in up to the second knuckle. He was getting impatient, and so was Kyungsoo, judging by his frustrated huff when Jongin didn’t do anything else.

“You don’t need to be so careful,” he grumbled.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Jongin said softly, slowly pumping his finger.

Kyungsoo sighed. “I finger myself regularly enough for— ugh, _more_.”

So Jongin slipped in a second finger, trying to ignore the thought of Kyungsoo fingering himself (it didn’t work). He still took his time, crooking his fingers to sculpt a symphony of moans, planning the brushstrokes of Kyungsoo’s thighs with caresses, tracing Kyungsoo’s furrowed brow and parted lips into the canvas of his mind. He pulled Kyungsoo’s leg close, pressing a kiss to the inside of Kyungsoo’s knee. The tinsel of precum stretched from the deep pink of Kyungsoo’s dick to the ivory parchment of Kyungsoo’s stomach, and Jongin was tempted to lick him clean.

“I need—” Kyungsoo panted, whining when Jongin pulled out.

“Three?” Jongin asked.

Kyungsoo shook his head, and Jongin gulped, fumbling with the bottle of lube. It was cold on his dick, too cold, but then Kyungsoo was holding his thighs apart, eyes closed in anticipation. Jongin stroked himself twice, biting his lip because he _ached_ to come but he couldn’t yet. No, not yet. He pressed the head against Kyungsoo’s hole, hesitating when he saw Kyungsoo’s grip on his thighs tighten. But Kyungsoo said nothing, so Jongin pressed into Kyungsoo, closing his eyes at the tight heat.

Fuck. He needed a moment to adjust, head thrown back as he took a deep breath. Kyungsoo twitched, and the soft, warm touch of Kyungsoo’s hands on Jongin’s thighs caught him off guard. He looked down, unable to resist the desire to kiss Kyungsoo. So he bent down, suppressing a moan when the change in angle shot a pulse of pleasure to his dick. Kyungsoo groaned, meeting Jongin’s lips with a greedy kiss. A tentative thrust made Kyungsoo gasp, his head flopping back onto the pillow.

“Move, _please_ ,” Kyungsoo breathily moaned.

And who was he to say no? Jongin braced his forearms on either side of Kyungsoo, nosing his way down to the crook of Kyungsoo’s neck as he slowly started to fuck him; but slow wasn’t enough, not for either of them, not when Jongin had been aching for this all night. His skin was burning, a sheen of sweat that saturated the air with the scent of sex. Kyungsoo felt feverish under him, stilted moans and the slap of Jongin’s hips against Kyungsoo’s ass joining the chorus of cicadas. He kept his head buried in Kyungsoo’s neck, drinking in the mix of his sweet perfume and the musk of pleasure. Kyungsoo’s cheek was pressed against his temple, and the smaller was clinging to Jongin’s neck, one hand tangled in Jongin’s hair. But Jongin wanted to taste him again; he set his teeth against the softness of Kyungsoo’s neck, lapping at the red marks before he moved up to meet Kyungsoo’s lips. They kissed, an entanglement of tongue and moans and sultry heat, of trembling limbs and pleasure that intensified with each touch.

The sharpness of Kyungsoo’s nails against Jongin’s back made him hiss. It was an almost-pain, one that intensified the pleasure that simmered just under his skin. He returned the favor, raking his nails down Kyungsoo’s thighs, teeth gentle as they nipped at Kyungsoo’s bottom lip. The luscious moan that escaped Kyungsoo’s lips made Jongin want more. He kissed his way down, lapping at Kyungsoo’s pert nipples until Kyungsoo was a whimpering mess, scratching for purchase on the sweat-slicked expanse of Jongin’s shoulders.

“I’m close,” Kyungsoo whimpered; Jongin sat up, one hand on the mattress to steady himself, the other digging into the planes of Kyungsoo’s hip. He slowed, grinding against Kyungsoo’s hips but Kyungsoo’s strangled moan broke through his intent to tease; he still paused long enough to admire the the scrunch of Kyungsoo’s nose, the way his lip curled in pleasure. He took a deep breath, drawing back as he picked up the pace.

Kyungsoo arched his back, lips parted as he dragged his fingers across the sheets, a naked Saint Teresa in ecstasy as he came. Hot cum spurted onto his stomach, splatters and pools of white on ivory. Jongin sucked in his breath, moving a hand to Kyungsoo’s thigh. He squeezed it, breath stuttering as he felt Kyungsoo clench; his orgasm was a bursting dam, flooding him with pleasure as he came. His thrusts were erratic, faltering as the last of his orgasm coursed through him.

The silence was punctured by their labored breaths, the heavy scent of sex permeating the room. At last, Jongin cupped Kyungsoo’s cheek, brushing his thumb against Kyungsoo’s cheekbone.

“Good?” he asked, because his brain was fried.

Kyungsoo giggled, pulling Jongin down for a kiss. “Way more than just good.”

“Yeah.”

“I think it would be nice if we did this again,” Kyungsoo said softly, brushing sweaty strands of hair from Jongin’s face.

“I was hoping you would want to keep me around,” Jongin said sheepishly.

Kyungsoo laughed, pulling Jongin’s ear. “Didn’t you want to paint me anyway?”

Jongin pouted pensively, rubbing their noses together. “I _want_ to, but I don’t know how I will without getting distracted.”

Kyungsoo gave him a sultry look, licking his lips. “Well, we can always do _this_ before a session.”

Jongin grinned. “I think that’s the most fantastic idea I’ve ever heard.”

(AN: If you guys want to see Jongin’s self portrait, check out [m_yomi95’s](https://twitter.com/m_yomi95) absolutely perfect fanart of it [here](https://twitter.com/m_yomi95/status/1163217187022233600?s=21)!)


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